


leave a candle lit for me

by academic_orpheus



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Nightmares, marya its ok to be gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/academic_orpheus/pseuds/academic_orpheus
Summary: natasha has a bad dream about andrei.
Relationships: Marya "Mary" Nikolaevna Bolkonskaya/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova
Kudos: 9





	leave a candle lit for me

**Author's Note:**

> for the sake of translation: малышка means “baby” and любимая means “beloved”. i know they’re obviously speaking russian the entire time but i wanted to throw in some actual russian here & there. enjoy !

It was nearly, but not quite, midnight. Marya found herself unable to sleep, so instead she prayed. With each passing night, this strange little house seemed more and more like home. These new faces, all of the Rostovs moving about and leaving Marya in the dust—it was entirely too much sometimes.

As Marya began to sing an old hymn in French, a knock at the door made her flinch. She swiftly grabbed a candle and opened the door.

Standing there in nothing but her nightgown was Natasha. Even in the dim candlelight, Marya could clearly see the contorted look of distress upon Natasha’s face.

“Tashka, my dear,” Marya said, her voice soft and soothing, the way she spoke to Nikolusha on a bad day.

“I had an awful dream, Masha,” Natasha shuddered at the recollection of it.

“Come here,” Marya set down the candlestick and drew back her bedsheets. She could finish her hymn later.

Natasha did not hesitate, not even for a second, before following Marya and crawling right under the covers.

“Better, yes?”

Natasha nodded, although her troubled frown remained stuck upon her round face.

Marya began to go around her room, putting out the candles she’d lit and making sure everything was in its place.

“Leave one on, Masha. It’s too dark without it, I get scared of the dark very easily.”

Marya was about to open her mouth, perhaps to tell Natasha how she’d only be wasting a candle. One look at Natasha’s stricken glance, however, cleared Marya’s mind of candles and rationality. 

The floor creaked underneath Marya’s feet as she approached her bed, the single candle on her desk just barely illuminating the walls. Marya didn’t stop holding her breath until she managed to get into her own bed and adjust her pillow and whatnot. She was so occupied with her meticulous nighttime regime that she nearly forgot that Natasha was in her bed, still wide awake.

“Tasha, do you want to tell me about the dream you had?”

An affirmative no.

“Do you want me to plait your hair whilst you fall asleep?”

A slightly unsteady yes.

Natasha turned over onto her side, flicking her hair over her shoulder. She always wore her hair up in such elaborate styles; Marya always enjoyed the pleasant surprise of seeing all of Natasha’s dark curls just resting upon her shoulders and down her back.

Marya was on her fourth plait when a sound from Natasha made her stop. Natasha sniffled, wiping a tear from her cheek, and for a moment Marya thought that maybe she was being too rough with the plaits, or that the idea of her and Natasha falling asleep together was simply too much. In due time, Marya found it too much for her. Her breath caught in her throat every time Natasha would touch her, if by accident or not. 

But Marya had to focus on keeping Natasha safe. 

“Natasha,” Marya said, hesitating. She was about to ask her something, but decided against it.

Natasha began to cry, clutching Marya’s hands and bringing them in front of her. 

Marya almost gasped at the way Natasha held onto her hands, and she wasn’t sure what she felt. It was all too tight and too close and Natasha was so cold, and every time another one of Natasha’s tears fell upon Marya’s hands she could do nothing but hold Natasha tighter.

“Hush, малышка, you need to sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” Natasha said, moving a loose curl out of her eyes.

Marya let out a slow, heavy sigh. She let her chin rest on Natasha’s shoulder. Their faces were so close that Marya could feel the warmth radiating from Natasha’s cheeks. 

“Mashunya?” Natasha whispered after what seemed like hours of silence. She turned over to look at Marya, their faces inches apart.

“Yes, милая, what is it?”

“I think that we should live together. I feel no one knows me as you do.”

“We already live together.”

“Well, I know, but… not in this dreadful place. A house of our own, and with Sonya, and Nikolai, and Petya. And Andrei,” Natasha added. She was uncertain. The way she said Andrei’s name worried Marya. 

“That does sound very nice. Yes, with all of your family…” 

Marya noticed that Natasha had begun to weep again. Natasha buried her face in her hands, taking uneven, loud breaths. Desperate to see Natasha happy and calm, Marya embraced her, cradling her head as she did for Nikolusha whenever he was upset or sickly.

“I had a dream about him, Mashenka. About Andrei,” Natasha said through muffled tears. Her sobs grew heavier.

“Hush, it was only a dream.”

“He isn’t going to get any better,” Natasha cried, regretting that she said anything, for the realization that accompanied her words seemed to strike her right in the heart.

Marya wouldn’t let Natasha’s worries get to her. She dried Natasha’s tears to the best of her abilities, and with her steady hands she resumed the plait she’d been working on. Once it was finished, she held it up momentarily before dropping it. 

“Aren’t you tired now?” Marya asked, trying to suppress a yawn.

“Yes, just a bit, любимая.” Natasha settled into the crook of Marya’s arm.

“Do you still want the candle lit?”

“Yes, please,” Natasha said, closing her eyes.

Marya reached around Natasha, drawing the blanket further over the two of them.

The house seemed to settle as Marya lay awake, watching Natasha drift off into peaceful sleep. She could ignore the smoky scent that filled the air, although they were miles away from Moscow. She could ignore the groans of pain coming from the wounded soldiers, her brother included. She could ignore everything if Natasha was by her side. Soon Marya found herself realizing all of the things she’d ignored. She’d gone on for so long that her eyelids had grown heavy and her brain and gone foggy and mixed up. Her last notion before falling asleep was the feeling of being washed in warm light from the single candle upon the desk.


End file.
